zimsbitty:

No one notices that Dex and Nursey are together for two months. They’re surprisingly subtle about it, maintaining their decorum on the ice, saving their kisses for when they’re alone. They fight as much as they did before, because some things never change, but they resolve every issue with soft apologies and warm bodies in the dark of their rooms. It’s tentative but intense, and they’re both a little too afraid of the depth of their feelings to announce it to everyone – that would mean putting a name on it, on what they feel for each other, and they’re not there yet. 

So they don’t say anything, and everyone’s too sure of their hatred for each other to see the change in their relationship. Two months since the first heated kiss in Dex’s room and the SMH are none the wiser. It’s almost too easy, Dex giving a practiced scowl whenever Chowder tries to get him to socialize with Nursey, Nursey shrugging nonchalantly whenever Ransom and Holster point out the pros of being friends and D-men. Even Bitty and Lardo miss the subtle cues they give: a glance here, a brush of a hand there, Nursey eyeing the delightful red of Dex’s blush whenever his shirt rides up to show a slither of toned, dark skin. They get a little reckless, stealing kisses in the Haus just outside the kitchen doorway as Bitty putters about inside, exploring each other’s bodies in the stands at Faber. They begin to talk about them a little more, growing more and more confident each day in themselves and their relationship to the point that Dex thinks they might soon be brave enough to define it.

And then they play Michigan, and everything goes to shit.

It’s a rough game, rougher than any of them have played in a long time, and they’re not prepared. Bitty gets checked in the first period and it’s dirty. He’s lucky it’s not worse, but he has to sit out for the rest of the game and they’re furious. The SMH are now on edge, every one of them out for blood, but even when Tango checks the guy who’d got Bitty hard, Michigan don’t let up. The atmosphere in the stands has gone from enthusiastic to tense, angry ripples running through the crowd, and it doesn’t help the team keep a level head. At the end of the second period Bitty calls them over and gives them a fond but firm talking to – he’s not a damsel they need to defend; they can’t stoop to Michigan’s level; they need to play their best and play for themselves, not to prove something to their opponents. Rans and Holtz give him surprisingly gentle hugs, tease him about being a shoo-in for Captain next year (everyone else agrees) and give their own brief rallying call. 

When they go back out on the ice they’re braced to win with pride, or at least go down with dignity. Dex makes sure to skate a little too close to Nursey as they take their positions, a brief brush of arms as reassurance that they’re there, it’s okay, it’s fine. Something warm settles in Nursey’s chest, and he’s ready. The final period starts, and they’re off. The SMH play valiantly and cleanly, resistant and stoic in the face of Michigan’s questionable tactics, and it does them good. It looks like they’re going to win as they enter the final five minutes, and Dex can’t resist flashing a grin at Nursey as he hits the puck up to Tango. Nursey means to return it, meets Dex’s gaze – and catches the moment that a Michigan player crashes into Dex. 

The check is violent to the extreme and completely illegal. Everyone’s yelling around them, the crowd in uproar, the paramedics making their way out onto the ice, the team screaming at Michigan. Nursey just freezes where he stands, stares at Dex’s unmoving form, watches as the paramedics search for a pulse. The relief is palpable when they find it, but Dex is still unconscious, and is that blood? Red is seeping onto the ice, staining the delicate strands of Dex’s ginger hair a vicious red. There’s a brief moment when Nursey remembers the night before, lying in Dex’s bed, running his hands through that beautiful hair, and then-

and then red is all he can see.

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